


so decided a dislike

by hallowgirl



Category: Political RPF - UK 20th-21st c.
Genre: (hinted) - Freeform, (kind of), And Rachel is awesome so had to be included, Camerband, David is passive-aggressively understanding of this trait, Ed is passive-aggressive to the nth degree, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Fluff and Angst, From hate to love, Loveless Marriage, M/M, Marriage of Convenience, Opposites Attract, Overlaps With Canon, Polyamory, Samantha is awesome because I love her, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, everyone can see it, from enemies to friends to lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-22 00:27:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11955891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hallowgirl/pseuds/hallowgirl
Summary: Ed stares at him for another second, then flops furiously onto his back, feeling that he's won and lost an argument at once, and he can't decide which. His heart is racing. He can feel something, something tense and buzzing, coiling like a wire in his stomach and chest."Idon't" and, to his horror, his voice wavers. "I don't want to th-stop.""OK." Cameron is far too reasonable. As though he doesn't even realise what athingthat is.In which there is one shed, more than one night, and a lot of passive-aggressive wanting.





	so decided a dislike

**Author's Note:**

> So, this was inspired by David buying a shed, Ed being passive-aggressive, and the revelation that Ed visits David a lot at his Oxfordshire home. It somehow got turned into this slightly odd take.  
> This might be the first in a series, I'll see how things go. (Might do something with the Symi thing too.) There are some notes at the end explaining some of the real-life stuff used.  
> Once again, this is total fiction, not meant to be a reflection on any of the real people, blah blah blah.  
> This is set sometime in late June/early July 2017, after the 2017 General Election. If you want to ask me anything about my fics, you can find me on [Tumblr!](https://hallowgirl.tumblr.com/ask)  
> Leave a comment if you like it! :)

_Tell yourself_

_It's not yourself_

_But no one else_

_Can make me know there's no one else_

_-"Belong", The Pains Of Being Pure At Heart_

 

_I meant to be uncommonly clever in taking so decided a dislike to him without any reason. -Pride And Prejudice, Jane Austen_

 

* * *

 

 

It's 4:35 am when Ed slumps over the driving wheel and accepts, for the first time, where he's going.

He scowls at the car, like it's all the vehicle's fault. (Ed knows _he'd_ find it adorable and be chucking him under the chin, even now, which irritates him even more.)

But he's been driving around for two hours and pretending to ignore every time the Sat-Nav announces the destination he's nearing in a way that's inconsiderately cheerful and makes Ed think about ripping the thing out and smashing it against a window.

(Ed has lots of thoughts like that since he lost, and since he lost to _him_ , which makes it all the more irritating that it's him he keeps going to.)

(Ed's had even more thoughts like that since _he_ lost, though with _him_ , they never called it _losing.)_

But thoughts like that are the new _normal_ , just like this post-election limbo's becoming the new _normal_ too, just like only staying in his own house a few nights every other week and that apartment in Merton have become _normal._

And this has too, and it's nearly five, and Ed knows he's there, so he doesn't think about where he's going and just heads there, and wonders if he'll mind if the car swerves off the road and leaves him lying dead in a ditch, and make a few headlines.

 _(He'd_ mind, though. Ed hates that he cares about that.)

Ed shakes his head and decides to just fucking get there.

He gets there and nearly wishes he hadn't, but doesn't quite. Like every time.

The guards know him now. (Being an ex-PM doesn't mean you get no guards, which _he'd_ seemed a little irked to discover. Ed had hated the way his own insides wriggled and puddled happily at the sight of the little scrunch of confusion on his face. Or he'd told himself he did.)

He should hate that the guards know him but he doesn't know if he has the energy to pretend.

He heads for the shed, trying to tidy his hair so he doesn't look so pathetically like he's been driving around all night, and wishes he had a Rubix Cube or his phone-well, he does, but he can't be bothered getting it out-or just something to occupy him, so he doesn't look as though he's just staring when _he_ opens the door.

Ed tries to pretend he won't be anyway, but then he opens the door, and all right. That's-that's out of the window.

Cameron just _looks_ at him, the light making the shed all cosy and warm, his hair a little rumpled in his T-shirt he uses to sleep in, ink smeared all over his fingers, and Ed's stomach swoops and flips, and his heart pounds, and his fingers curl, wanting to be in Cameron's hair.

Cameron just _looks_ at him, with that small Cameron smirk he always gets, and Ed swallows, trying to work up as much contempt as he can, to curl his lip into a sneer, for himself as much as Cameron.

"Th-so-" He's almost too tired to curse the lisp. "Th-so-been going back to the 1950s with your book writing?" He nods at the ink on Cameron's fingers, so he doesn't have to look at the way all his insides cringe at once at his own tone.

Every time Ed tells himself he won't talk to him like this, and every time Cameron gives him the exact same smirk when he does. Ed tells himself that it's Cameron who's annoying him.

 _I've seen him once since he stepped down_ , he'd heard himself stammer out in that interview, remembering the grin on Elwen's face as he'd waved when he'd seen Ed standing at the side of the grass awkwardly in Holland Park earlier that day, the way Florence had thrown herself into his legs, her arms wrapping around tight, but never tight enough to hurt, no matter how hard she squeezed.

And maybe it was that-that squeeze of something in his chest, the happy jump of Florence's cheek against his own, her head nestling into his chest (the same way his kids _never_ do) that had left his tone to Freeman brusquer, edgier, frantically casting about for the record of that one professional meeting he'd had with _him_ , and feeling guilt crawl through his stomach, despite the fact he'd said that plenty of times about other people he'd seen more than once _unprofessionally._

(But not like he sees _him.)_

(He'd remembered the grin on Cameron's face too, when he saw him, and he'd felt a smile scramble to his own mouth, real and aching, not like the smile he's caught himself giving out more and more often.)

( But then, most people can't tell the difference these days.)

Yeah, right.

Ed tries to scowl more, to shove his thoughts away.

Cameron just smirks more at the sight, as though Ed's behaving exactly the way Cameron always thought he would-which Ed _is_ , but there's no way he'll admit it-and then, still smirking, just jerks his head behind him, leaning against the door frame with an insouciance that makes Ed scowl while his knees weaken a little. "Coming in, then?"

He doesn't need to ask, but he always does.

Once inside, and the door shut, Ed takes his seat slowly on the bed in the corner. Cameron sits back at the desk, scribbling away without giving Ed a second look. Ed watches him, quietly, taking in his jaw, his hair, the profile he knows better than he should. He curls up on the bed almost without knowing it, watching.

"Thought you usually got up at five?" he says, trying to sound sneering and trying not to at the same time.

Cameron shoots him a grin. "How do you know I haven't just got up?"

"Becauthe you look like you do when you've been up all night."

Cameron's grin deepens, and in the second before he sees that, Ed curses himself, because Cameron's tricked him again. Into revealing he notices Cameron.

Notices things _about_ Cameron.

Which should really be a foregone conclusion considering what they're doing, but-

Maybe it's that which makes Ed snap out nastily "I forgot you're not Prime Minithter any more."

A second later, he hates himself. Cameron obviously knows that, because his smile broadens even more.

Ed scowls and rolls over onto his back, staring up at the ceiling, sinking into the bed that's more comfortable than any bed has a right to be, because Cameron knows that he feels small and mean and Ed hates that.

It's the reason Cameron smirks. It makes Ed be smaller and meaner and makes him hate himself more, until eventually he snaps and grabs Cameron or tells him he's sorry, and they can be the same thing.

Then there's why he feels small and mean.

They both lie there for a bit, Cameron scribbling notes away, occasionally humming in a tone that Ed finds horribly endearing, and Ed's face turns towards him a couple of times before he eventually gives in and just keeps it turned towards Cameron, watching him, the way he lounges in his chair, the way he chews at his pen lid, the way he-

Ed's staring far too much, and Cameron's eyes find his.

"I used to get up at five" Cameron corrects him, with a small grin, as though the sight of Ed scowling at him's one of the more amusing ones in the world. "I'm not Prime Minister any more, so I don't have to."

That takes the wind out of Ed's sails a bit, and he sits up, scowling, feeling crotchety and not liking it.

"You th-still th-shouldn't th-sit up all night" he mutters, hating the lisp and willing Cameron to just argue with him.

But then he sees Cameron's smirk and knows that Cameron _is_ arguing with him. Cameron's arguing with him by not arguing with him.

It winds Ed up more than ever and Cameron knows it.

"Anyway" Cameron says musingly. "What about you? Aren't you supposed to be getting a good night's sleep, so you can roll around the country helping your glorious leader nab those crucial marginals so when the inevitable second election comes-of course, forgetting that you still couldn't win even against the worst Conservative campaign in history-"

"Shut up" Ed snarls.

Cameron does, with a smirk. Ed resists the urge to punch the pillow.

"Couldn't sleep?" Cameron asks instead, and Ed hates how soft his voice is.

Not so much couldn't as hadn't tried, but Cameron doesn't need to know that. Ed rolls on his side, turning his back firmly to Cameron.

"Sulking?" Cameron asks now, a definite smirk in his voice.

Ed scowls at the wall, so hard he can feel his forehead knotting, his cheek pressing into the pillow.

He tells himself he hates how familiar this is, now, and knows that Cameron's grinning because he knows he's wound Ed up, and that's how he likes Ed sometimes.

Ed would have never thought that Cameron not arguing could be more annoying than Cameron arguing.

Not that he doesn't do both.

"What'th th-so bad about uth arguing?" Ed had barked out one night a couple of months back, him and David sitting side-by-side on his bed next to each other. "You uthed to like it-"

"I still do" David had said agreeably, stroking a thumb through Ed's hair. "But it's actually rather a lot of fun watching you try to make me argue."

Which, of course, had made Ed even more furious than before, and when they'd been under the duvet, he'd torn at David's shirt, digging his nails in, wanting to make things faster, harder, wanting to make Cameron gasp and bite and scratch, the way they have sometimes-

But Cameron had just placed one hand on his chest and effortlessly held him at arm's length. Ed had thrashed, scowling as hard as he could, and then David had just very slowly tilted their mouths together, looking into Ed's eyes the whole time, and it had been-

Soft.

Soft and warm and gentle. And Ed's eyes had stayed open the whole time, until his own hands had been pressed into David's cheeks and his eyes had fluttered closed with a little sigh. And Cameron had been the same the whole way through, no matter how much Ed tried to bite or scratch or just get under his skin, touching Ed with slow, aching tenderness.

Ed tells himself he hates that that was one of the best nights they ever spent together, that David kept him gently on the edge for so long Ed's thoughts had been shattering, that when he'd cried out into David's chest, he'd almost cried with it. That afterwards, when they held each other, Ed didn't even try to argue, just cuddled into David's chest, let David stroke him softly, murmuring to him. That he'd murmured the same words back.

Now, Ed just watches him write, and then suddenly, Cameron stands up, pushing his paper aside. Ed, taking a silent cue they've somehow agreed without realising, begins unbuttoning his shirt, to slide it off with a sigh of relief.

("I'm not staying" he'd muttered that night, before they'd ended up in bed. "I'll leave, after. I won't-I won't be here for breakfath-st, or anything.)

(Cameron had just looked at him inscrutably for a long moment, head tilted to one side, and then nodded. "OK.")

(They'd had breakfast together.)

David just watches him quietly, and Ed stops unbuttoning. They look at each other for a moment, and then Cameron says "So. I presume you had a good day. Bolstering your stunning election victory."

And that makes Ed's head fly up and he barks out "Oh, just fuck _off,_ would you?" because Cameron _knows_ that it's worked out perfectly for him and Osborne and the rest however the election result gets interpreted, because it means that he won, _he_ won, Cameron, on his own merit, and now _no one_ can say it was just Crosby.

(And Ed-)

(Ed _didn't_ , and that was on _his_ own merit, too, and Ed hates Cameron for reminding him, he tells himself)

and Cameron doesn't even agree with what May's doing, because she was using Ed's policy and it's just made Cameron look even _better_ and Ed's been waiting and waiting for him to gloat and he still-

Tell me it's rubbish, he screams silently at Cameron. Debate me.

Then I won't have to-

It's not as though Cameron doesn't argue with him these days, but not when Ed wants him to most, and Ed doesn't want to think about why.

Like right now.

"I might" says Cameron, with that smirk, "have just been congratulating you on your persuasiveness."

And Ed snorts and throws himself upright and something seizes tight with relief in his chest, because this is what he knows-this is what he can deal with-

"Mightn't I?"

Ed snorts again. "No. You mightn't."

Cameron gives him a very Cameronish look, the type that makes desire twist beneath Ed's stomach, the type Cameron's given him in here before.

"Because you're fucking-she fucking called thith th-so you could _win-"_ he bursts out, answering a question Cameron hasn't asked. "You fucking called-and-and you loth-st or you didn't win-and don't th-say we'd do the th-same, becauthe that'th juth-st-"

He's rebutting Cameron's arguments before he makes them. Not that he gives any sign of wanting to make them.

Make me, Ed urges.

"Th-same old Torieth-s" he says, trying to sound as dismissive as possible, but aware of his throat aching, his eyes prickling and fucking say something _back._ "You-the only people you're thinking is-"

He stops then, because Cameron's stepping towards him and his arms are moving. Ed tries again, too quickly. "Ith yourth-selve-"

Cameron steps right up to him, puts his arms around him and pulls him gently into a long, tight hug. Ed's words dissolve into nothing between them. Nothing between them and David's arms all around him.

For a long moment, they just stand there, rocking slightly, hugging into each other. Ed's arms have ended up around David without him knowing. He feels, fleetingly, like a crying kid, who's screamed at a parent for an hour only to cuddle into them when picked up, and then feels as though he's just walked through the door of a place that feels like home after a long day.

David just hugs him. One hand's rubbing his back in slow, soothing circles and Ed feels his shoulders relax into it, his face turn a little bit into David's collar. He can feel David's heart, beating strong and sure against his own. He can smell his soap and aftershave, which is far too familiar, even after a night sitting up, and he can feel his body, warm and solid and breathing against his own. Ed isn't sure how long it is before he realises that he's spent at least a few minutes with his face turned to the side, nuzzling into David's neck, just above his collar.

He realises, but he doesn't stop, and Cameron's smiling when he eventually leans back. Ed has no idea what expression is on his own face.

But Cameron just touches it, gently, one hand on Ed's cheek, and the touch makes Ed's heart pound. Heat rises like a flood where Cameron's hand's touching him, and he can feel his breathing quicken, and he just wants to lean into Cameron's chest again.

Cameron, probably knowing this, lets his hand fall. But he doesn't stop smirking, even when Ed slowly raises his hands to his own buttons and begins undoing them again.

Ed shouldn't still get that shyness creeping up his skin, into his cheeks as a blush, head ducking down, when he undresses in front of David, but he does. He sheds the shirt as quickly as possible, then his jeans, and tries to ignore the fact that Cameron's right there and his eyes are right _there_ , on Ed's body, like he's fucking touching him.

"You're cute when you're shy" Cameron told him once, calmly, as though it was simply a fact, and Ed had glowered at him and barked out "You're th-so fucking patronizing" and lisped and hated himself, and Cameron had just smiled too nicely at him, like he'd understood, and Ed had scowled, and decided never to be shy about getting undressed again, and next time he'd been even shyer.

(And Cameron had loved it. Coaxing at Ed's hands, murmuring his name, sighing when Ed's hands eventually fell away and let Cameron slowly unfold him out of his clothes, unfolding the tension in his body too, stroking each part of him as he uncovered it, until Ed was blissfully drifting in a haze and quivering with need.)

This time, Ed doesn't take off the boxers. He just turns away and climbs into the bed, under the duvet this time, and shivers with a thrill when he knows Cameron's still watching him.

He watches Cameron undress, though. He turns, almost before he knows he's going to, and watches.

Cameron doesn't look away from him the whole time, either, which makes it worse and better all at once, and Ed's fingers are curling into the bedsheets and his heart is pounding hard in his chest.

A part of Ed wants it to remind him of when three of the kids from school shoved him against a wall and tugged his collar against his throat until it nearly strangled him, and ripped out one of his favourite pages from his textbook. (One works in McDonald's now. One's drifting from job to job. One's in prison. Ed made a point of finding out.) Of when he'd stared back, trying not to cry, but his gaze burning, eyes prickling.

But it doesn't, and that's even more Cameronishly annoying, so Ed folds his arms and huffs, even as his entire heart turns over in a way that makes him want to grin until his face aches when Cameron kicks his trousers loose, runs his hands through his hair.

Cameron doesn't take off his boxers, either. Instead, he just goes to the switch and then Ed tells himself he hates him even more, because he _dims the fucking lights_ so everything's warm and cosy and that always seems to have a Pavlovian effect on Ed's mouth and his words and his nuzzling.

God, this is unhealthy. It has to be.

Cameron, with that small smile, turns and climbs into the bed next to him. And it's just the fairy lights illuminating the little room now, making Cameron's eyes shine, and Ed's heart beat a quick, almost painfully sweet rhythm.

He doesn't say anything, but Cameron just turns towards him, his eyes finding Ed's unerringly, and Ed's heart thunders louder. He can feel the sudden heat under the duvet, their bare chests almost pressed together. And then Cameron puts an arm around him.

This has to be unhealthy.

Ed doesn't push him away-he doesn't even try to wriggle away. Instead, he turns towards Cameron and wriggles closer. And he even lets his eyes flutter closed, hears himself let out a pathetic little _sigh_ , as Cameron just strokes a hand down his back gently.

The worst part is he doesn't regret it.

Cameron's hand is gentle, just tracing over Ed's spine and then his shoulders. Ed's arms come up around Cameron's neck, like a child wanting to be held. Cameron's fingers ghost his cheek, and Ed makes a contented little sound in his throat.

"How was your day?" Cameron says, his voice soft, his fingers stroking Ed's shoulder now. The tenderness makes Ed's heart beat fast.

His eyes flutter shut, and his heart aches with wanting to press himself into Cameron, to disappear into his skin. He will, soon. He will.

 _Iloveyou._ The three words drum in his chest, make him shiver, but he'll say them. (He always ends up saying them, because the lights and his skin and his kisses and Cameron coax them out.) (Because they're true, and that makes Ed's heart turn over again.)

"All right" he mutters, and that's glossing over it-

(because Cameron knows how it was)

(because Cameron knows and he's probably smug about it, and Ed should remember that)

and Cameron just touches his cheekbone, like a ghost, like he thinks Ed might disappear if he's not careful.

Ed's eyes flutter shut. The worst thing is they want to.

He turns over on his back, hating himself for it. Cameron's fingers just ghost over his shoulder instead.

Cameron's voice, when it comes, takes on a singsong tone. _"I'm old enough to remember when David Cameron was moving on from_ -"

Ed tenses, thoughts and body sharpening, narrowing onto the tweet he wrote weeks ago, slumped in the driver's seat, foot kicking beneath the steering wheel over and over again.

Cameron's voice singsongs again in his ear. _"Deja vu, same old Tories-_ you're not particularly skilled at using hashtags, Miliband-"

And it rears up again, hot and hating and grabbing Ed's mouth.

"Shut up" he snarls, and he turns away on his side, hating and telling himself it's Cameron he's hating. His elbows jut out as he folds his arms. He glares at the wall, wishing his gaze could break through it, could crack that wall open and make it shatter into pieces around him.

Cameron just watches him for a few moments, and Ed hates that he can feel that

(he tells himself he hates that)

Then Cameron touches his neck, leans forward a little. Ed tries to make himself tense when Cameron's mouth almost brushes his neck, when his chin nudges into Ed's shoulder, but he can't quite make himself. Instead, he shivers, and not for the reasons he'd wish for.

"Have you been drinking?" Cameron murmurs, and Ed tries to roll his eyes a little.

"Bit."

"You were _driving."_

"Yeah, not lotth-" Ed almost snarls, but can't quite be bothered. "I had one or two earlier. Hourth ago."

Cameron doesn't say anything, probably knowing it pisses Ed off even more.

(He didn't used to drink. Not at all.)

Ed rolls over onto his back. "I'm not trying to break my fucking _neck,_ OK?"

He hates that the word cracks a little unfamiliarly in the air, the way it always does when he curses.

(He hates that he likes the way he shivers when Cameron does.)

But it's true that he's not. He's barely there as it is, and he reckons Daniel and Sam have even less interest in him now than they did two years ago when he had to constantly dredge up their names to reporters and when he jabbed them into smiles for the camera lens and Justine hissed pinches into their ribs. If he managed to send himself through a windscreen, they'd miss the money, at least.

He sees them even less, and of course he had to beam and smile the other week and say that one of the compensations of not being Leader Of The Opposition

_~~(or Prime Minister or Prime Minister or Prime Minister)~~ _

was seeing them more.

He has to pretend less, anyway, and maybe it was easier when he could let himself pretend, or maybe he just pretended more even to himself, then.

They don't pretend, either. Children don't pretend when they don't want to, but these days, they don't bother trying to hide it. They don't look up when he comes into a room. They don't look to him if he presses his mouth against their cheeks. Sometimes, he can feel his older son seethe, his eyes grey-blue and something worse than fierce and looking nothing, nothing like Ed.

The older one. The younger one.

Ed feels his stomach turn over.

He rolls over roughly again, trying to shove it away, and this time Cameron cups his hand around his face and just holds him. Ed closes his eyes and lies there, heart suddenly pounding, Cameron's hand too warm, too soothing.

(They like _him._ That's the thing. Daniel and Sam like Cameron. And Cameron's kids. They like it _here,_ and that's just something else Cameron has.)

~~(And his kids like Ed _they like him they like him they like him-)_~~

Eventually, Ed turns round too quickly to stare at him, because fucking _look_ something. Fucking look angry or breaking or something, that tells me I-

Cameron looks at him, and slowly his thumb traces Ed's eyelids.

Ed's eyes flutter.

Don't take-

Cameron's thumb is one gentle touch.

Don't take me apa-

"How's _Designated Survivor?"_ Cameron's voice is a murder of amusement.

Ed lets out a short bark of laughter at that.

Yeah. Eighteen episodes in. Not being near each other in three weeks, but eighteen episodes watched together, hey, that sounds fine, suitable, feasible, no problem.

But people don't look too closely at what they want to see, and these days that suits Ed just fine.

"Judge Justine" David murmurs, that little smirk in his voice, and Ed laughs again, harshly, stinging his throat. Bringing a gavel down too easily, letting the rest of the world know what's right and what's wrong.

Judge Justine, who slips private school off her resume like a whisper, hisses the right thing to say into their sons' ears so they can sting safely out of sight, and smiles a little too widely to be seen.

David reaches for Ed's fingers and slowly opens them, stroking his palm softly, where Ed's only just realised he's been grinding them.

_~~Like me like me like me~~ _

Ed's chest is suddenly rising and falling rapidly.

 _It's my night with them_ he'd hissed at Justine a few weeks earlier, knowing they'd prefer to stay in London and go to the International Evening-not because of her, not because of either of their parents, not anymore-but because it was a party and something bright _~~something normal something normal, not like him, not like he ever~~_ and fun and colourful, and they could go with Zia, and they had school anyway the next day, and it made sense for them to stay.

 _It's my night_ , he'd hissed, watched her pull her lips tight, as the implications sank in and she cast about for some sort of legal solution, some sort of clause she could pull out of the air where she could have the kids tonight-because she was meant to want her kids, Ed wasn't stupid enough to think it was anything else-and he'd felt a cruel jab of satisfaction, scraping harshly through his stomach when she couldn't find one, and he hadn't even been able to think of anything to do with the boys anyway.

He'd dragged them leafleting, when they'd made it clear they'd rather do anything to spend time with them, feeling some sort of vindictive jibe at the way Daniel dragged his feet, and then he'd hated himself because if feeling like that about his own kids doesn't say something about him, then what does?

(Justine had stared at him, when he'd hissed those words, as though she'd never seen this before, which maybe she hadn't, and he'd stared back, because )

 _(You made me like this_ , he'd wanted to think, from the moment back in February that year, when Gordon was still Prime Minister, when they'd sat there, the carton of Chinese food warm under his hands, and she'd said, as though she'd never thought about it before when he could tell she'd thought through those words a hundred times, _Have you ever thought about running for leader?_ )

(But he had, and he knows Justine didn't make him like that. Something else did, something small and angry and biting, and maybe that's why he got together with Justine in the first place. Maybe they sought each other out, both with that bitingfuriousfeeling shrieking between their ribs.)

_Sweetie, would you look over there?_

_Sweetie_ , the word congealing at the back of his throat, like weeks-old juice trickling down the back of his tongue into his stomach, filling his mouth until he can't open it because it'll splutter out again and again until there's nothing else left.

Nausea rips through him, and his body jerks violently, but Cameron's arms are there around him, holding him still, like they are every time.

When Ed stops shaking, he tries to drag himself out of Cameron's arms, but he doesn't do it harshly enough or meanly enough which makes him want to pull something or rip something or smash something. He stares hotly up into the warm darkness, and wants to sink his fingers into it, rip holes in it, make it rent and tear and scream until it looks like how he feels on the inside, torn-up and blackly bleeding and fucking _wrong._

Cameron's touching his face again and their faces are touching-

(and Ed hates that that soothes it)

and his nose is brushing Cameron's as he turns his face towards his and their mouths are touching, warm and soft and opening-

(and he hates-he hates he hates-)

Cameron's hands cradle Ed's cheeks and his tongue comes out, warm and soft, to touch the tip of Ed's own and something warm dissolves in Ed's chest, and his own hands are moving, one pressing into Cameron's cheek, one clutching at his bare, warm shoulder.

(....)

Cameron's warm tongue is gliding across his own, playing and slowly caressing his mouth, tasting him slowly and then Ed's own is in without him even noticing, feeling the warm insides of Cameron's mouth, and his heart is drumming and he has that feeling all over again that he always gets, that makes his hands tighten, his breath quicken, that nothing could feel closer than this, nothing in the whole world-

Their mouths break apart, warm and soft, but Ed's eyes are still closed. He's breathing too hard.

So's Cameron, but he laughs, a little shakily. He rolls onto his back, as Ed rolls onto his own.

"Oh, Miliband" Cameron says, and his voice cracks a little with fondness. "Oh, Miliband."

That lances through Ed then, but it's not the words.

"What?" he snaps out, turning to look at him, heart still drumming, and Cameron just looks so happy, looking up at him.

Ed hears his singsong voice again. _I'm old enough to remember when David Cameron-_

He feels Florence's cheek pressed against his own. Feels Samantha watching him across the kitchen table last weekend, her head tilted to the side, eyes narrowed but not nastily. Like she was just quietly opening up his skull, examining his thoughts, taking them in.

(She _knows._ As Cameron had turned towards Ed at the kitchen table, the way Samantha had just taken Cameron's hand for a moment and looked at him, the way he'd stared back at her that way they do, like there's no one else in the world, and then Samantha had just pressed their foreheads together very gently, and they'd stared into each other. It had been closer than kissing.)

(A moment later, Cameron had stepped over to Ed and pressed his mouth against Ed's temple, one thumb stroking his cheek and that had been closer than kissing, too.)

It's the way Samantha given his hand a squeeze that lasted a few seconds longer than it needed to as he was doing the washing-up (the way he'd been doing the washing-up with Cameron, like it was just natural), the way Nancy had nestled into his shoulder when he helped her with some statistics for her eco-club, like he belonged.

(The way Daniel had been dangling over Cameron's shoulder, laughing so hard Ed had thought he might throw up, Sam wrapped around Cameron's legs like he wanted to live there, the way they never are with Ed.)

And fucking be upset, he thinks, fucking be upset, perfect fucking Cameron, with your perfect understanding wife, and your perfect fucking kids-

And those words lance through Ed like something far sharper, something that cuts him up in his chest, and makes him suddenly roll onto his back and glare at the ceiling, feeling cruel and rotten and miserable.

He's the kind of person who thinks things like that about children, he thinks, miserably. No wonder he's-

And he's angry again. His knuckles whiten. He wants to rip at the darkness. He wants to shriek it into pieces.

Cameron's hand touches his. Ed's curls tighter. "Hey."

Stop that, Ed's mind shrieks.

Come closer, everything else whispers. Everything else screams.

Cameron's looking at him, Ed can feel it, and he stares up into the darkness, eyes burning, chest rising and falling, skin burning, until he suddenly can't stand it any more and he has to turn his head quickly and stare at Cameron, chest heaving a little, eyes wide and so hot they must be blazing into his in the dark.

Cameron looks back at him. "Hey" he says quietly.

Care Ed screams in his head. Screams with every fibre of his body, just not his mouth. Care. Care that-

Cameron looks at him, strokes his cheek.

Care that you're not the fucking Prime Minister any more. You failed. You lost. Your party just lost, or they didn't _win,_ they didn't-

Care-

Cameron's moving slowly over him, and Ed's heart's thudding with wanting him closer.

Care. Care more than I-

Cameron just looks at him for a moment, as though he's stopping, when actually his arms are coming further around Ed's shoulders. As though he's peeling back Ed's skin and seeing the mess of tangled, sharp jabs inside him, the rocks stabbing long, trailing cuts through him, the way he does every time.

He looks and he knows, because then his arms are around Ed, and his mouth's just on his jaw next to his mouth.

Shhhh. Cameron doesn't say it, but he might as well. His mouth is soft and warm and moves softly and warmly, and gives soft, warm kisses. And Ed's dissolving under it, his thoughts swirling into liquid warmth, the sharp jabs of rock melting into something a little too hot but not goring, not stabbing, not gashing. Like a cut healing.

And Cameron kisses more and more of Ed dissolves, but he feels more real. Almost newer, underneath the long, open gashes knitting together. He's unfolding, dissolving into himself.

Cameron kisses him slowly, and his hands are in Ed's hair, and then Cameron's rolling over on top of him, his elbows on either side of Ed's shoulders.

"I'm not sure how I can handle Symi" he whispers into David's mouth, and David shakes his head.

"You won't have to see her. You're sitting separately on the plane. You can just-"

"They athked for us together and I didn't know what to say-"

"It's OK." David strokes his cheek. "It's all right."

He's already determined to put her down on the forms as _his wife_.

(Because she needs to be Justine Thornton, QC, Judge, expert, and that's what she clings to, he knows, why her smile always tightened slightly as she ground her fingernail into her palm when someone in her chambers blinked and said _Oh, Ed Miliband's wife_ , because she needed to believe she was more than that. Needed to believe she was more, full stop.)

(She's always needed to believe that, he knows, because you don't live with someone, wandering in and out of the house at different times, for nine, ten years and not have knowledge crawl under your skin, fastening it's hooks like a poisonous vine, winding up inside your throat.)

(He pictures that flinch of her brow, that tightening of her jaw when she reads _my wife_ and it something squirms cruelly in his stomach, a shiver of delight.)

David watches him quietly, and Ed knows he's seeing something of it. Like always, he waits for him to pull away.

He doesn't.

"How wath your day-" Ed's words are becoming mumbles into David's mouth. He can hear the first twitters of the birds outside, like they're trying to prove they're still alive. He can see the dark blue light of the dawn creeping across the sky, pushing through the curtains, like it's trying to push him against Cameron's chest, push his arms around him.

"Writing." David kisses Ed's temple. Ed shivers. "Speech-writing. Thinking about you."

Ed blushes, and hates that he's blushing. David smirks.

"You're blushing."

Ed tries not to blush. That makes it worse.

"Did you think about me?" David whispers into the warmth of Ed's cheek.

Ed twitches, fingers curling, because-

His legs open, and they're either side of David's waist, his hips digging into Ed's thighs, which quiver around him. Their boxers are rubbing together-

_~~I think about you I think about you I think about you-~~ _

David's kissing his cheek again, his jaw, his neck-his teeth graze Ed's pulse point and Ed's head tosses, his breath coming in a gasp-

His hands come down to David's boxers and David lifts his head, presses his forehead against Ed's, and they stare at each other, their breathing ragged between them. David's eyes are blue and blazing and beautiful, and there's a stray eyelash on his cheek.

_I think about you I think about you I think about you-_

Ed's chest aches with it. Aches with-

_~~I love you I love you I love you~~ _

David's nose nudges his cheek. His forehead presses a little too hard against Ed's own, but Ed wants it harder, closer.

"I love you."

David's eyes widen in delighted surprise, the way they always do when Ed says that. The way Ed's always want to do when Ed says that.

He snaps his mouth shut, squeezes his eyes closed, cursing himself, but it's too late, David's heard them.

He's heard them, and-

Cameron's mouth just settles on his own, soft and warm and Ed melts. He melts around David, his hands coming up into Cameron's hair, Cameron's mouth opening his own, his tongue gently touching the tip of Ed's own, and Ed's heart swoops, everything warm and melting inside his chest, making him wriggle and sigh into the kiss.

"I love you" Cameron whispers, breath hot against his neck, and Ed hears himself gasp, the words making his heart race, his body suddenly trembling. His legs are getting ahead of him, coming up around Cameron's waist, trying to pull Cameron down to him, his body betraying him, arms and legs and eyes and breath shouting out what he wants, loud and clear.

And if Cameron just pushed him down, ground his teeth into his neck, skin slapping together as he thrust himself back and forth, Ed could tell himself that that's all this is, hard and angry and getting something out, and that him doing this in spite of and because of Cameron being Cameron at once is fine because that's all it is.

(When lately, he's started to think it's not in spite of at all.)

But Cameron just takes Ed's face between his hands and nestles their noses together, and even that little gesture makes Ed's heart skip. His hand is on Cameron's cheek before he knows it, his legs coming up again, and they're kissing, and Ed's melting inside, David's tongue exploring the insides of his mouth softly, fingers curling into Ed's hair gently, coaxing Ed down onto the pillow, his body fitting between Ed's legs.

(The first time it happened, it had been quick and rushed, half-in and half-out, inside Ed's office against the wall, neither of their trousers undone, not even inside each other, just rubbing frantically, hips jostling and bruising each other, Cameron's nails scratching the skin at Ed's neck as his fingers closed too tightly, and Ed couldn't even pretend he'd done it deliberately, and afterwards they'd stood there, both of them gasping, their cheeks flushed, and Ed had felt his rumpled hair and his half-unbuttoned shirt and the stickiness on his hands, and had hated himself for a moment.)

("That what you wanted?" he'd half-barked at Cameron, voice wavering, and then turned away so that Cameron wouldn't notice his eyes prickling, fumbling for tissues from his desk, throwing some to Cameron to clean himself up with, the stickiness on his skin too much, too _there,_ and even as he'd scrubbed at it, his hands had been shaking, because he could still feel it, even with it gone, even with his skin just bare, clean, skin-)

(And Cameron had just walked calmly up behind him, barely touched his shoulder, and then wrapped his arms around him. He'd pulled Ed into his chest, and wrapped his arms very tight and just hugged him.)

(And Ed had just pressed into his chest and his breath had spluttered out in a long, tear-threatening sigh, and his arms had come up around Cameron's neck and he'd let himself be hugged.)

("Why do you do that?" he'd asked Cameron a few weeks later, when they'd been lying in the bed at the Doncaster house, side-by-side, chests rising and falling, dragging deep, sex-drained gasps of air, not touching, but looking enough to be. "Why do you touch-"

Ed hadn't finished it, but _touch_ had said everything.)

(It shouldn't be touch. It should be _fuck, hate, hatefuck._ Anything that kept those words front-and-centre, together.)

(Cameron had just looked at him, and said with a grin "Maybe I'm just trying to wind you up."

Ed had snorted and rolled onto his back. Cameron had rolled onto his side, propping himself on one elbow and looking at Ed, while Ed tried to stare at the ceiling and not notice.

"That's what you'd like it to be" Cameron had said almost conversationally, and one of his fingers had been tracing Ed's bare shoulder, just so gently.

Ed had frozen, because if Cameron knew that's what he'd like it to be-

_~~He's giving me it, he's giving me it, he's giving me this....-~~ _

Cameron was _giving_ him-and Ed hadn't been able to bear it anymore, so he'd just rolled over and his mouth had been suddenly wild, slamming and open and frantic as it found Cameron's, kissing him open and needing so he couldn't hear it anymore, couldn't feel it.)

(But he could. He could, when Cameron took Ed's hand and placed it over Ed's heart, so Ed could feel it slamming, and Ed's hand trembled, and Ed didn't pull it away.)

("I'm not staying" he'd almost whimpered into Cameron's mouth and Cameron had laughed, the laugh reminding Ed whose house it was and he'd just ground his mouth further into Cameron's, fingers digging into his shoulder until Cameron cupped his face between his hands and made the kiss so gentle Ed thought his heart would turn over, it was skipping so fast.)

(This time when they'd had breakfast, Cameron had placed a spoonful of eggs Benedict into Ed's mouth and Ed had let him.)

Now, they're kissing, and Ed's legs just tremble and fall open. David just looks at him, and strokes Ed's cheek so gently Ed's eyes close, words crumbling into a moan, and then David's coaxing him back into the pillow. Each kiss on his neck is hot and open and David's tongue coaxes at his skin and Ed can hear the needy little noises coming out of his own throat as David's other hand just strokes from his hips to his waist, over and over again, lingering on the part between. Ed's hands are in David's hair and then David's mouth is warm and breathing warm, tickling heat onto his chest, and then kissing softly over Ed's heart.

Ed can feel it banging, throwing itself against his ribs, and he thinks it's going to smash its' way out, cracking his ribs open, pushing at his skin until it tears, and sliding, wet and crimson and bloody and still beating, between Cameron's lips into David's mouth, smearing the corners with blood, bits of Ed sinking between his teeth.

David kisses again, so gently that Ed makes a choked, whimpering sound, and for a horrifying moment, thinks he might cry.

Cameron knows that, and just kisses more gently, tracing each of Ed's ribs, and the slow shivers of sensation make it worse and so much better.

David's mouth is kissing Ed's stomach, and Ed's hands curl into the sheets before some part of his body decides they'd rather be in David's hair or on his back or both seems a good idea, and so there they go, legs right around Cameron's waist, and Ed arches up, because Cameron's tongue is making him shudder and because he wants to lean over, stroke Cameron's shoulders, and kiss him right there under his shoulder blade-

David's kisses sputter into a gasp and a shudder that sends his body trembling against Ed's own and his arms slide all the way around Ed and just _squeeze_ tightly, and their hearts are punching into each other and Ed just wants to hold him right then, and a stupid part of him thinks that if he could just stay here, holding Cameron like this, with David holding him, that would be good. That would be better.

Ed kisses that spot over and over, then the spot under David's jaw that makes his arms tighten, his little moan sweet in Ed's ear, _"Ed.."_ whispered at the end like a ghost. Ed squeezes his legs tighter, feels himself press deliciously into the softness of David's stomach and lets out a low groan as their hips rub together slowly. David's breath catches at the same moment his own does, and when they both moan softly at the same moment, Ed's heart turns over and soars, making his eyes fly wide and his chest ache with happiness, even as his brain feebly tries to murmur it's pathetic he can feel like this.

Ed had once heard from Rachel-Boris's sister, and so like him, and somehow nothing like him-who'd been laughing as she told him, tossing her honey hair in the same way Boris does, that she'd been reliably informed that when a man had managed to give a woman an orgasm, he felt like he'd just scored the winning goal in the Champion's League. Ed had blushed and nearly spilt his drink and pretended to know what she was talking about, when it was like water-skiing-something he knew existed, but didn't have any particular inclination or need to try out.

Of course, he'd had sex, but giving Justine, or anyone-

Well, that wasn't the point. Sex beforehand had been thrusts of his hips, wondering if he should be making more noise, mind groping for the next few lines of the speech or policy quote he should be working on, trying to pay as little attention possible to the way there was skin against skin everywhere because it was too warm, too much, and made his chest tighten, lungs grabbing frantically for air, and then the sudden tension tight in his body and then the release, hot and sticky, would drag a groan from his mouth and leave him feeling empty but with the feeling of scoring a line deep into a box and pulling it into a nice, deep black, neat tick.

He hadn't thought about Rachel's words again, until he'd been inside Cameron

(the first time he was inside him was a disaster, but it felt glorious, and that was why it was a disaster, because all Ed had been able to feel was _God, he's so hot and tight_ and that was _Cameron_ around him and _Cameron_ he was inside and _God,_ and _God,_ and-and Ed had been gasping, trying to get his eyes onto Cameron's, but he'd just been looking at his chest, warm and damp with sweat and rising and falling too fast, and then he'd thrust forward once, twice, and something had just twisted and _exploded_ in his body, and then he'd been crying out, fingers biting into Cameron's shoulders, his head tossing, before he just collapsed down, his cheek pressing into Cameron's shoulder, his body making little frantic, whimpering sounds, even as Cameron's hands rubbed his back and his voice was murmuring "That's it, that's it..."

"I'm th-sorry" Ed had said, over and over again, and Cameron had just grinned, hand coming down to stroke himself slowly, and the grin had just made Ed scowl and keep saying it. "I'm th-sorry, I'm th-sorry.")

(it was the second time he'd been inside Cameron that he'd managed to move as slowly as possible by dint of reciting all the Prime Ministers of the United Kingdom in chronological order and moving his hips so slowly it ached, and just looking into Cameron's blue eyes, their gazes spilling into each other, little gasps catching in Cameron's throat, until Ed had had to look away, his breath oddly tremulous, his heart racing.

It was that time that he'd pushed forward a little, Cameron's hands fumbling at Ed's arse, hot and open there, pulling him in a little, and there'd been fumbling for a few moments and their foreheads bumping together and then Ed had been all the way in, deep, and he'd taken a deep, shaking breath, looking into David's eyes-they're so fucking beautiful, oh, oh _God_ -and then he'd looked away for a moment as he moved his hips the tiniest bit harder, and then felt something that felt different from everywhere else inside David but that was all he noticed before David's eyes went wide and his jaw went slack and he made a noise Ed had never heard him make before-a groaning, moaning sound that ripped out and then tailed off into a high-pitched whimper. He'd looked desperate, eyes squeezing themselves shut, face crumpled, and something had melted in Ed's chest at the sight.)

(It had been easy to keep moving into the same spot. Groans had been rippling out of David's throat, his fingers digging little scratches into Ed's skin, his teeth burrowing into his lip until Ed had stroked under his mouth, making him open and moan more, and each long drag of aching pleasure through Ed had made his heart beat faster, his breath hitch and escape him, because he's feeling this too, he's feeling it too.

The best bit had been knowing it was coming, feeling David's voice, pressed and garbled into Ed's neck now, go from long _Aaaaaahs oh goooooooooddss_ to _Aaah-ahhh-ahh-oh, ah-I'm, I'm-ahhhh-ahh-ahh-_ his hips hitting Ed's more and more, and way down by their feet, feeling David's toes curl against Ed's anklebone.

Ed had just moved right against that spot then and he'd managed to see the moment David's thoughts shattered, eyes flying wide and a sound coming out of his mouth that could have been a scream if it hadn't been so breathy.)

(David had shattered all at once, his eyes widening impossibly and then suddenly his whole face twisting, crumpling into a misshapen groan that was so loud Ed thought the walls would shake, and in the middle had been _Ohhh, Ed-_ and then his head had been back, his eyes wide, his body thrashing, his mouth opening again and again in long, relieved _Aaaaaaahs_ , and Ed had become aware of the hot stickiness suddenly hitting his own skin a second after it had happened, and he could feel his own orgasm cresting slowly, an aching wave, but he'd kept moving, because David was still convulsing and he could feel him tightening around him-and he'd just kept moving because David's gasps were hitting his cheek, his fingers clawing at Ed's back, and oh my god, he was inside David, David was tightening and releasing around him, David was coming- _he was inside David when he was coming_ -and it was that-that and the way David's hips had suddenly risen, with a little beatific _"Aaah-"_ and an expression on his face that was so blissful it made Ed want to laugh and cry-that had coaxed out a shocked little _"Aaah"_ from Ed's mouth, and then, hovering at the crest of long, aching tension, he'd just slid quietly over the edge, into long ripples of relieved, aching pleasure and the whole thing had been a deep groan into David's neck, his body shaking, David's breaths hot and needy against his neck.)

(Ed had held David through it, and he'd whispered _I'm here, I'm here_ even as he shuddered himself, still feeling David fluttering around him, still grasping that _I did this.)_

(Then he'd got it, when he'd rolled off David at the end and stared up at the ceiling and felt himself grin until his cheeks ached. He'd felt like punching the air.)

("A smirk looks good on you" David had muttered when he could breathe again, and Ed had rolled over and just looked at him, waiting to feel angry or furious or just utterly-

He hadn't felt any of those things. He'd just stared at Cameron and then rolled over and kissed him, fumbling and needing and just wanting to kiss him.)

Now, David slides down again, kissing his stomach, across to each of Ed's hipbones. Ed feels his entire body shake because it's so-it's like a game. It's fun and usually, Ed would be laughing by now.

Somehow, it's become Cameron that makes him laugh.

But it's been a bad day, so Cameron strokes between his thighs softly, sending shudders of heat up Ed's body, and Cameron knows.

(Ed hates that Cameron knows what he needs, he tries to convince himself, but he can't bother any more, not right now, not when-)

Cameron kisses between Ed's thighs, warm and soft.

"You're fucking us up" Ed whispers, his voice catching, prickling in his eyes. "You're fucking the country up."

Cameron just kisses softer, and Ed's hands curl, wanting to rip at himself for the things he's saying, but these days, it seems like everything makes him furious and shreds him apart on the inside and the only times it feels right are when-

But no. It's not when he's on cameras or handing out leaflets, or telling everyone-

(It's when he's-)

"David" he whispers, and to his horror, he thinks he might cry, so he turns his face away.

But then David's hand is on his cheek. And he's just looking at Ed, and his eyes are big and blue.

He tilts his head and then they're kissing, very softly. And Ed's hands are holding Cameron's cheeks and he feels the way he did that time when Cameron sat down next to him and almost tugged at Ed's tie and his gaze had just brushed Ed's and Ed had felt the same happy grin spring to his face as-

"Pleathe" is all he manages, and his voice is cracked, desperate, and then a whisper. "Pleathe. Cameron-"

David just cups his cheek, holding his face an inch away. Their foreheads are nestled together but Cameron doesn't kiss him. They just watch each other, breaths trembling, eyes fluttering. Ed's are prickling.

"I love you" Cameron whispers, so gently that Ed trembles and a sound like a sob breaks in his throat.

He opens his mouth, intending to say "Please" but nothing comes out. All there is is a little choked gasp and he stares at David, needing him to say something, needing him to speak, needing someone to break something, the tension that's stretched out through the country and through everyone he knows and through him and just waiting-

Cameron just gives the tiniest little movement of his head-not even a nod, but a soft butterfly kiss to the corner of Ed's mouth, and then Cameron's back between his legs, and he's kissing Ed's thighs.

Ed feels like he's falling off a cliff, teetering slowly and surely until he's falling and a little cry comes out of his mouth as David kisses the inside of his knee, hands stroking above-long, slow strokes down Ed's thighs, making them quiver and open without Ed realising, his entire body whimpering, inviting David in, needing him.

"David." It's a little sigh, his legs parting even more and he feels David's hands tremble just a little at his thighs, stroking them gently, following it with kisses, each soft stroke sending a slow trembling heat up Ed's legs, between his legs, coiling and smouldering, until Ed's quivering all over.

"Da-" He doesn't need to say any more because David's already there, his fingers at the waistband of Ed's boxers.

He peels them down very slowly and Ed turns his face away and then at the last moment back, and sees David's eyes widen as they always do as they take him in. Ed lies there, trembling, feeling almost unbearably exposed as he always does and his hands fighting not to cover himself as they always do, and a part of him trembling with it, wanting to burst into flames.

"Ed." David's voice is a whisper, and then he moves slowly, his blue eyes finding Ed's. Ed stares back, trying to treat it like a challenge, but David just looks at him, eyes big and open and-

Ed's eyes flutter shut, right as he feel David's lips brush, a small electric tingle, against the very tip of-

 _"Ohhh-"_ Ed groans, unable to stop himself, his legs going wild, and his hand tautens in David's hair, where he hadn't even realised it had travelled. _"David-"_

David strokes then, and the soft touch of his fingers nearly sends Ed out of his skin. He tugs at his hair, just a little.

"David-"

David's face lifts. His cheeks are flushed, his hair dishevelled, his eyes sparkling. He looks debauched, as needy as Ed feels, and that's it.

"Pleathe-" It comes out as a groan and David's fumbling with his own boxers, kicking them off, kicking Ed's off too, and throwing them somewhere-Ed doesn't care where. He really doesn't care.

Because suddenly David's mouth is there, soft, warm, gentle, against his own, and for a second, their lips just hover there, in an almost timid little kiss. Then one of them (Ed knows it's him, he k _nows_ ) tilts their head and it's a leap from that to kissing slowly, very slowly, deeply, but their hands are moving. Ed can feel David's pressing into his back, his own pressing into David's shoulders. He can't get close enough to him. His legs are trembling and oh God, he hasn't _looked_ at Cameron yet-

As if reading his thoughts (and he's good at that in bed, Ed hadn't known you could be good at that in bed), David breaks away just slightly from their kissing and his fingers fold, warm and clever, around Ed's wrist. Slowly, he lowers Ed's hand down and then gently places it around himself with a soft kiss to Ed's mouth, his gasp opening his mouth at the last moment.

They both gasp at the shock of heat and Ed at the warm hardness under his hand, the sensation that makes his heart jump in his chest every time, and then David's hand just strokes down his own-

An aching shudder grabs Ed's body and he groans, hips jumping as David's hand moves again and again, making his body jump and squeak and making Ed gasp as soft tendrils of pleasure tickle between his legs, up his body, so that his back arches, wanting, his eyes opening wide at David, and his own hand fumbling a little, the way it always does, but the way that makes David's eyes flutter shut, his expression so raw that it makes Ed want to tuck it against his chest.

"Now" he manages, softly, and David's eyes flicker open. They're hazed, glazed with arousal, but he nods, and he's reaching for the little drawer next to the bed, for the bottle that had made Ed blush when he first saw it

("Were you planning this?" he'd barked at David-it was the sixth time they'd done it, but the first time they'd done _this,_ and Ed had been scrabbling for something, something to say to shove out the _Oh my God, Oh my God, this is happening_ that had been squeezing his stomach, sweat breaking out on the palms of his hands.)

(Cameron had just grinned, quirked an eyebrow slightly, and said "Not planning" which wasn't a bloody answer and they both knew it, and typically Cameronish)

and the packet that Ed had been determined not to blush at.

("So-" he'd said, the first time, deliberately making himself look at it, as Cameron smirked at him, lips flushed and swollen from kissing, Ed's shirt already unbuttoned and that, Cameron's hands tracing his chest, counting his ribs, how open it all felt, sharpened Ed's tone a little, trying to shove at, toughen up the part of him that'd been whimpering into Cameron's mouth, melting under his soft strokes and touches for the last forty minutes, his tongue stroking Cameron's in long, deep kisses that were tangling Ed's thoughts until he didn't want to bother untangling them-"Which of us needs to use them?")

(He'd waited for Cameron to say "Me" and then Ed could roll his eyes and acquiesce while saying how typical, typical Tory always wanting to be on top, or for Cameron to say "You" and for Ed to push away the jolt of blind panic and roll his eyes and mutter about how typical of Cameron expecting someone else to do all the work and complain enough until Cameron offered to take on the job himself and then he'd be able to acquiesce with the aforementioned insistence of Tories' desire to be on top.)

("Up to you" Cameron had said and that jolt of blind panic had seized Ed's whole body because oh God, oh God, and typical fucking _Cameron.)_

("T-typical Tory" he'd tried, but his voice had been shaking. "L-leaving it up to other-th-s to deth-cide-"

His lisp had been thickening and his words had been biting themselves off too soon and he couldn't look Cameron in the eye, and he knew Cameron could see it, and he told himself he hated Cameron for that.)

(And then Cameron's hand had touched his cheek, and Ed's eyes had fluttered up to his.)

(Cameron's had been watching him, an inch away, so blue that Ed's heart skipped a beat, and he wanted to just take Cameron's face in his hands and kiss him over and over again until he stopped remembering anything-)

("Why don't we just-" Cameron had said, just above a whisper and Ed had waited for him to say "Wait and see" or "Decide later" already scrabbling for the words to throw back at him, already searching for them, his half-addled brain trying to sculpt them into phrases _Typical-typical Tory-)_

(And then Cameron's face had been tilting and he'd just been kissing him, softly at first, then deepening it slowly until Ed's mouth opened, and his tongue crept out to David's, and they were kissing so deeply, a slow electric current spilling down into his chest with each brush of their tongues, and that had been it, Ed's thoughts had been spilling with it, and Cameron had taken away all his words, and Ed didn't even care.)

(Later, it was Cameron who reached for the condoms, Cameron who was still kissing Ed every few moments, cradling his face between his hands as if he couldn't bear to let go of him, as though he might dissolve or disintegrate or vanish, if David didn't keep kissing him every few moments, keeping him there with him, Cameron who was on top of him, his arms around Ed's bare body, tracing every spot, wrapping him into him, keeping them together. It was Cameron who reached for them and Ed didn't even think to question it or care.)

(Afterwards, he remembered it, a faint flicker of _should-I-have_ in his chest, but it had been gone, crushed out of existence under his head against Cameron's chest, Cameron's heartbeat half against his forehead, half against his ear, Cameron's warm skin pressed against every inch of his, their arms around each other, holding as much of each other as they could.)

(He was lying naked in bed with Cameron. Every few moments, Ed had lifted his head and kissed a new spot, because he hadn't seen Cameron _here_ before, or _here_ before or kissed him _there,_ and because they were both blissfully basked in the afterglow, Cameron had just beamed every time Ed kissed, every time he stroked Ed's back or his hair, every time their mouths pressed together in a soft kiss, just to remind themselves they were there.)

(Ed had kept thinking it was going to vanish, that he wasn't appreciating how odd this was, that there'd be some sign that it should never have happened.)

(It didn't. There wasn't.)

(They kept holding each other.)

Cameron's opening the bottle, pouring the liquid out. Ed gulps, staring the other way, his breathing quickening a little the way it always does, and then David's hand is down-

Ed gulps. His heart is pounding. He's quivering and David presses their foreheads together. He can feel the coldness of the liquid, the tip of David's finger, the pressing in, and-

"Daaa-aaavid-"

Cameron's hand takes his and squeezes hard, and then there's a push and Ed gasps, because Cameron's-Cameron's finger's inside-

Cameron kisses him, kisses his nose, then his mouth, kisses again and again. They're both gasping, and Ed can feel it swelling in his chest, wanting to tell him, needing to-

"Cameron" is all he can say. "Cameron-"

Another finger, and Ed's body bucks hard, one hand fastening in David's hair. Each kiss that Cameron presses to his mouth is making Ed quiver, building and making him toss his head back and forth.

He watches Cameron fiddling with the packet, tearing it open one-handed. His eyes flicker to Ed's and he grins at him, and Ed turns his head to the side, squeezing his eyes shut, trying to trap the moan in his chest.

"Hey" and Cameron cups his cheek, and it's too gentle, it's-

"C-come on" he manages, trying to make his voice harsher. "You-you-"

Cameron just kisses him, as he unrolls the condom down himself. The sight makes Ed's heart turn over, the slight concentration on Cameron's face and he can't stop himself darting up, pressing a kiss between Cameron's eyebrows. Cameron's eyes widen in delighted surprise, and Ed lies back, turning his face away.

"Hey" is all Cameron says, and then, "Hey. Ed."

Ed keeps his eyes shut, and then Cameron just puts a hand on his cheek and turns Ed's face back towards him. "Ed." His voice is a whisper.

Ed gulps. He opens his eyes slowly. David's are an inch away from his own.

Ed opens his mouth, but he can't find any words. He squeezes his eyes shut.

"Ready?" David whispers.

Ed nods slowly, and then says "You-"

David waits.

Ed shakes his head. He shakes it over and over. He can't get the words out. He's not even sure what they are.

He just puts his hands up to David's face, holds it there.

David looks at him, and then Ed feels him, right there, right at his-

Ed keens, not even realising he's doing it, and Cameron just looks at him. Ed's fingers curl into the sheets and he whispers without knowing he's whispering "Come on, come _on-"_

Cameron pushes, hard. Ed wants it to hurt more than it does, like he always does, and then Cameron's inside him, and he moans at the pressure, his nails digging into Cameron's shoulders.

"So you've only seen me once since I resigned, have you?" Cameron whispers, his voice a tickling tease against Ed's neck, and Ed bucks, because of course Cameron would choose _now_ to bring that up-

He moans in response-too much, too quickly-and Cameron laughs softly, and strokes his waist, a silent reminder to be still. Ed hears himself whimper, and then Cameron's holding his hips still.

"And that was more than enough?" Cameron's voice is teasing but-and Ed looks up at him because-

Cameron's worried. His jaw's tensed just a little. He's worried. He's-

And Ed hates that he knows Cameron this well, but-

His hand comes up to Cameron's cheek, and strokes. Once. Gently.

"I-"

He can't say anything but it's OK. It's OK.

It shouldn't be, but-

Cameron kisses him very softly, and moves, just once, slowly, back and forth.

Ed moans at the sensation, his legs winding round David's back, and then his hands are in David's hair and he's gasping his name. All he can hear's their breathing, rapid and hot on each other's skin, David's hands pressing into his shoulders as he moves inside him as slowly as possible. Ed tries to slow his own breathing, and he's conscious of everything, the creases of the sheets digging into his shoulders, the tightness of Cameron's arms around him, the dove grey of the walls-and the slow, long, aching movements.

God, Cameron's _good at this._

They're moving slowly into a rhythm, their lungs dragging at the air. Cameron keeps moving slowly, steadily, each thrust a long drag of aching pleasure that makes Ed groan, tugging at Cameron's hair. Cameron's eyes open, fix on his own, blazing blue. Ed's hands press into his cheeks, holding him close, needing him closer.

David looks into his eyes, one thumb stroking Ed's cheekbone, and then their hips do an odd little wriggle together, like one of them whispering to the other. Ed's whole body tautens, because it's too fucking _much,_ it's like Cameron's peeling his skin back when he just looks, and that's _not who Cameron's meant to-_ , and then Cameron's hips move just a little, and then _he'sfuckrightthere-_

 _"Fuck."_ The word's a gasp into David's neck, electricity spiralling up his spine, his hips jerking. "Fuck _-oh-"_

David's holding him tight, so tight that Ed can't tell where he ends and David begins, but he keeps moving and then Ed's thoughts are gone, spilling away under hot, tingling pleasure.

"David." His name comes out half as a grunt and half as a groan. David holds him tight into his chest but Ed feels him shudder.

 _"David-_ no, I mea-Cameron, _Cameron-"_

David just shushes him over and over again as Ed shudders and tries to remember. David's breathing is deeper now, and Ed can feel him shaking around him, can feel him inside him, aching slightly, but sending slow quivers of pleasure through him, until he's trembling with it, teetering on the edge of something. Every time he hits there, Ed's body's tightening and he lets a long groan be dragged out of his throat, his fingers curling into the sheets and then into the duvet and then finally, giving up, into Cameron's skin.

"Cameron" he manages through gritted teeth, wrapping his arms around him, trying to get him as close as possible, trying to climb under his skin. "Cameron, _Cameron-David-"_

David's kissing his forehead, and it's far too gentle. Ed's arching, pleasure creeping up his spine like lightning and then David kisses his eyelids, so lightly he almost can't feel it, but he does, all the way to his toes.

"Cameron" he manages, but it comes out like a sob. "Camer-David, David-"

"Ed" David says gently into his ear. "Ed, look at me."

Ed lets out a muffled half-sob. His toes are curling. His body's twitching with a slow, building wave of pleasure.

"Look at me, Ed."

His name's soft in Cameron's voice.

Ed makes a hoarse, desperate sound and lets his eyes fall open.

David's eyes lock with his. They're blazing. Ed cries out, unable to stop himself.

David kisses him, his mouth capturing Ed's, both of them gasping. _"Ed-"_ Something breaks in David's eyes and his hips thrust harder, their arms wrapping around each other, and Ed presses kisses into his jaw again and again. "David, David-"

They're kissing so deeply that Ed thinks he's disappearing. The wave of pleasure in his body's breaking free, rising higher, making him tremble, little quivers escaping. His mouth is sinking into David's, his body's wrapping around David's, he's disappearing into-" _David-"_

David's eyes open, and so do Ed's.

Their gazes lock, staring at each other. David moves very slowly, as though Ed might disappear if he moves too fast, into-

Electricity bursts in front of Ed's eyes. And again, and again, but he can hear his own voice, hitting the shed roof, making low, desperate sounds, his head tossing until David's mouth is open and hot against his own again, teeth catching Ed's lip, but his own groan echoes into Ed's mouth and something about that is so close and private and raw that Ed feels like Cameron's just turned himself inside out for him.

That's the last coherent thing he thinks because then Cameron gasps "Ed" and his hips thrust of their own accord and Ed's eyes open wide at the electric quivering of pleasure it sends through him, his grip on the wave loosening, wavering, as Cameron keeps...keeps....

The wave teetering in his body shudders once.

David's arms tighten around him, and then Ed's stomach drops, his eyes rolling, black dots dancing in front of them-and then he lets go, the wave crashing down and shuddering through him, and a long "Ohhhhhhhhhh" shuddering out of his mouth as he just _lets go._ It's rippling through him, a long shuddering wave, bigger and bigger, his knuckles pressing into Cameron's hair and electricity unspooling up his spine, and David's gasping his name into his neck: "Ed...Ed..."

He feels David's hips jerk and then the rush of heat that tells him, and then Cameron just _shouts_. He shouts Ed's name, half into his mouth and half into his jaw, and Ed's arms just come around David tight, even as he closes his eyes, release tautening his muscles so that he whimpers, squeezing Cameron so tightly into him that it's as though he might fall apart if they don't keep holding on, their hips bruising each other, the bed squeaking frantically.

Cameron's forehead is scrunched, his mouth open, contorting with it, and it makes Ed squeeze him tighter.

Everything hits a dizzying high note at once, and then it's over and Ed collapses into the bed, drenched in relief, Cameron's forehead pressing so hard into his shoulder it's bruising his skin, his arms so tight around Ed that for a moment Ed thinks they're under his skin and that they've managed to attach to each other after all.

They lie there, a sprawled mess on the bed, sweaty limbs tangled together. Cameron's head is pushed into Ed's shoulder, taking deep, unsteady breaths. The duvet's half back, the sheet almost pulled off the mattress. Cameron's hair is damp and that's when Ed realises he's kissing Cameron's head over and over, one thumb stroking his temple.

He goes to stop but Cameron just makes a contented sighing sound into his shoulder and that melts something in Ed's chest, even when it shouldn't. He keeps stroking quietly, even as Cameron slowly wriggles his way out, and then rolls over so they're lying next to each other, his arm around Ed's shoulders.

Ed steals a glance at him, both of them breathing hard. He tells himself he'll move in a minute, his cheek pressing against Cameron's shoulder. Cameron's eyes are half-closed, his face flushed, one arm over his forehead. The other's around Ed. His lips are swollen, pouting. Something leaps off a cliff between Ed's ribs looking at him.

Ed leans back into his arm, stretching a little, feeling himself ache at the emptiness, his body getting used to being empty again where it was full. He stares at the ceiling, hears his heart beat, counts it second by second.

When he turns to look at Cameron again, Cameron's looking at him, blue eyes knowing him through his lashes.

Ed looks back, both of them breathing hard.

"OK?" David doesn't say it, he breathes it. Ed barely hears it. He closes his eyes, listening to the pounding of his own heart, and feels Cameron slowly, tentatively put his other arm around him, as if Ed's a hedgehog whose spikes he's trying not to touch. Ed closes his eyes, his heartbeat audible, something warm and fond unfolding under his skin as Cameron wraps his arms slowly around him.

It's David who gets up quietly, kisses Ed's head, and goes to the corner. Ed keeps his face turned away, but sighs softly as the warm flannel touches his skin.

Afterwards, David climbs back into bed with him, and his chin settles on his shoulder.

Ed stares away, and then rolls over onto his back as quickly as possible. He stares up, feeling David's blue eyes on him, watching him quietly.

"What if" he hears himself say, voice wavering, staring up at the ceiling. "What if."

(This was the way he suggested it, the first time.)

("What if" he'd said, lying on a bed in one of the guest rooms in the Oxfordshire house just a few metres away from them now, next to David. David had been stroking his cheek.

Ed hadn't been able to look at him while he did that.

"What if-" David's voice had been low.)

Now, David just watches him and waits. One hand strokes Ed's hip slowly.

("What if-" Ed had stared down at his fingers, threading them together over his stomach, his heart beating so fast he felt sick, breath out of reach. "What if we-"

The words had caught in his throat and he'd rolled over, stamping his mouth awkwardly into Cameron's at first, but then he'd just kissed him, kissed him deeply enough that David couldn't be in any doubt about what he meant.

"Oh" David had managed, his voice shaky, a few minutes later when they'd finally broken apart, both of them gasping for breath. _"That.")_

"What if I told you I didn't want to do this anymore?" he says, and he deliberately doesn't look at Cameron. He keeps his eyes on the ceiling, so he doesn't have to watch the words hit, watch Cameron crumple from the inside out just for a minute, feel himself crumple too.

"Is that what you're telling me?" Cameron's voice is very level, very steady. That's how Ed knows he's crumpling.

"No" he says, still to the ceiling, his own throat swelling. "I'm not saying it. I'm th-saying _if_ I was saying it."

There's a long silence. Ed stares determinedly up at the ceiling, his throat swollen and aching with what he wants to tell Cameron-roll over and put his arms around him and tell him-both of their hearts pounding. Outside, the birds are singing too loudly.

Cameron speaks very slowly, each word very, very calm. "Then we would stop."

The simplicity of the words makes something pull tight in and snap loose around Ed's chest at once.

He waits-for what, he's not sure. He stares at the ceiling, breathing hard, and then his head jerks round to stare at Cameron, the words snapping out. "What? That'th-s it?"

Cameron stares back. "That's it."

Ed stares at him furious, heart pounding, words out of reach, hands curling into fists.

Cameron stares back, half his face falling into shadow. "If you want to stop, we'll stop."

"I don't want to th-stop!" Indignation means that Ed doesn't look too closely at the words. "I wath just th-saying _if."_

Cameron is maddeningly calm. _"If._ Then we'd stop."

Ed's even angrier at that. "And you'd be fine with that, would you?"

Part of him's reaching, his whole body reaching for Cameron. Another's humming with his heartbeat.

 _Say yes, say yes,_ with each beat of his heart.

"No" says Cameron, very simply. "But if you wanted to stop, we'd stop."

Ed stares at him for another second, then flops furiously onto his back, feeling that he's won and lost an argument at once, and he can't decide which. His heart is racing. He can feel something, something tense and buzzing, coiling like a wire in his stomach and chest.

"I _don't"_ and, to his horror, his voice wavers. "I _don't_ want to th-stop."

"OK." Cameron is far too reasonable. As though he doesn't even realise what a _thing_ that is.

Ed rolls over, suddenly desperate to be closer, needing to press himself into David's skin. David's chest is against his own, their hearts pounding together, his arms tight around David's shoulder, sliding around his bare back.

"I _don't_ " he says, suddenly, the words ragged and wet, into David's shoulder. "I don't."

"OK" and Cameron's hugging him tight. "OK." And they're squeezing and hugging the life out of each other, almost, and Ed can't decide which and doesn't care.

His nose is pressing into Cameron's shoulder. Cameron's arms are tight, so tight, tight enough.

I want. I want to want to stop. I-

But that isn't quite true, anymore.

Ed just hugs himself into Cameron's chest, their arms around each other.

"It's OK" Cameron says into his ear, his voice vibrating through Ed's neck. "It's OK. We're OK." And then the tension coiling tight in Ed's stomach melts suddenly, out through his spine as Cameron's hand circles his back, out in a long, almost sobbing breath.

They lie there for a long time, breathing in each other's skin. Ed's mouth's soft against David's neck until slowly, David presses a very gentle kiss to his forehead, rolls him into the spot next to him, kicks the duvet back to cool their skin, and flips off the light, throwing them into a quiet, hearts-beating darkness.

Cameron's arms wrap around him.

There's a silence. Then, "I love you."

Ed says it a little louder than he means, David's heartbeat suddenly very loud, as loud as his own.

David's arms wrap a little tighter around him. Then, quietly, "I love you, too."

They lie there.

(The first morning after, Ed had told himself he'd leave in a moment. He'd watched Cameron sleep, the dawn filtering through the curtains onto his face.)

(He hadn't left. He'd lain there, and then he'd closed his eyes again, his arms around Cameron, and told himself he didn't feel Cameron's arms at all.)

David's breathing falls into rhythm with his own. Ed closes his eyes and drifts, so close he can't tell where either of them ends or if they end.

(When Ed had opened his eyes again that first morning, Cameron was watching him quietly, blue eyes darker in the early-morning light.

"Watching me th-sleep? Ed had asked, too drowsy to tell himself he didn't want to be here.

Cameron's mouth had twitched slightly. "Yeah." That was all he said.)

(He'd kissed Ed's cheek. Very lightly, as though Ed might disappear, and suddenly, Ed hadn't been able to bear it.)

(He'd propped himself up on one elbow and he'd been kissing David too hard, mouths open, devouring each other, his hands pressing into David's cheeks.)

One of David's hands just brushes Ed's cheek in the dark as his breathing grows regular. Ed's hand creeps up very slowly, and after a second, holds it there.

("I'm going to leave" he'd whispered between kisses, fumbling, frantic.

"I know."

"I'm going to leave." He'd kissed Cameron deeper, tried to force his mouth open and climb down his throat, down inside him.

"I know.")

Ed waits for something, vaguely, as he drifts into sleep, the day creeping through the curtains.

(He hadn't left. He'd stayed.)

The birds are singing. David breathes with him, their heartbeats searching each other out, a peaceful waiting together as the day creeps in, bringing whatever comes next.

Ed does but doesn't quite realise, of course.

(He won't, yet, not even when they wake up.)

This time, neither of them have had to ask if Ed is staying.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> David's shed was pretty much national news when he got it.:)  
> IRL, Ed claimed in an interview he'd seen David once since he stepped down, while he'd actually reportedly been at the younger Cameron kids' sports day earlier that day.  
> The tweet David quotes is one posted by Ed. Ed didn't used to drink much but has reportedly been spotted out at pubs a lot on his own in Doncaster recently. He also reportedly has stayed at Cameron's home in Oxfordshire with his kids a lot over the last few years (perhaps not in the context in this fic!) Ed does reportedly refer to his sons as "the older one and the younger one" sometimes.  
> Justine became a Deputy High Court Judge in mid-2017. She also went to private school (Nottingham High School For Girls) but always only cites the comp school she also went to. There's a video from during the 2015 election campaign of Justine whispering lines to their sons to say to the cameras and reproving them when they didn't-the same video where Ed can be seen with his "Sweetie, will you look over there?" comment to his son Daniel, referring to the cameras (to which the kids object) here: http://www.gettyimages.co.uk/license/688322514  
> Ed claimed he and Justine were up to episode 18 of Designated Survivor, but it later emerged he didn't watch it. Zia is the Miliband children's nanny. (The International Evening saga at the kids' school was rumoured to have taken place, but obviously, we don't know for sure, I just decided to use it because it fitted.) It was Justine reportedly whose idea it was for Ed to run for the Labour leadership, convincing him one night over a Chinese takeaway. The Symi reference refers to a symposium Ed and Justine were meant to attend together but ended up spending no time together at, even sitting separately on the plane. (Justine does hate being referred to as Ed's wife.)  
> The reference to David nearly brushing Ed's tie can be seen at approx 08:00 in this video here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PKwCwBVjrj0  
> Ed was apparently bewildered by the idea that sex could be fun, according to one person he met. Rachel Johnson did report the line about the Champion's League (apparently coined by her husband.) The memory of David nearly tugging Ed's tie comes from this video: David's daughter Nancy is apparently very into eco-club/green issues.


End file.
